


Everything Was Bluish-Grey

by TakingThatDive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coffee Shop, Drinking, Drug Use, M/M, past ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakingThatDive/pseuds/TakingThatDive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn Malik doesn't know what to do with himself when Liam leaves him. He turns to the party scene, picking up random boys and taking them home so he doesn't have to sleep alone. Alcohol is the only thing that takes away the hurt. All of his friends know he can't keep this up, but how far will it go before someone speaks up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Wanna Be Drunk When I Wake Up

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles are all from songs I do not own :)

The air around Zayn swelled with heavy bass and colorful lights. His glassy eyes swept the crowd for anyone to help him drown his sorrows further, flickering over thin blonds and muscular, tan bodies. He felt like he was underwater, the alcohol in his system heavy on his tongue. Zayn turned to see a dark-headed boy gazing at him from the bar. He smiled dangerously, like an animal who’s found its net meal. Zayn made his way over to the bar slowly, pretending not to notice the other boy as he sat down a few seats over. He felt a shift next to him, and then hot breath ghosting over his ear as the other boy spoke.

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?”

Zayn felt a hand settling on his shoulder as he strained to hear the boy over the pumping music. He let it stay there, turning to face the tan stranger. 

“Looking for some fun,” He winked mischievously, “The name’s Zayn.”

“Danny. How about I buy you another drink, Zayn?” The devilish smile never faltered.

Zayn nodded. He liked the way Danny said his name. Zayn took in the boy as he twisted to yell to the bartender. He had smooth olive skin, similar to his own, with raven hair and strikingly dark eyes. They could have been brothers.

The bartender slid Zayn the intoxicating liquid before walking away to tend to another drunken customer. Danny smiled as Zayn knocked it down with ease.

“You wanna go back to my place?” 

Zayn barely had time to register the question before he felt himself nodding. When did Danny’s hand get on his knee? Everything was becoming habit now, a nightly routine. Drink, flirt, fuck, repeat. Never got old. 

The room spun slightly as Danny helped him stand. Zayn gripped the bar as he steadied himself, giggling. 

“You alright, mate?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just a little dizzy,” Zayn grinned at the raven haired boy, not fully there. Autopilot.

The December air bit through the front of Zayn’s leather jacket when they made their way outside. He wrapped his arms around himself and stepped a little closer to Danny, the cold seeping through his clothes. Once inside a taxi, he stopped shivering as Danny slid a possessive arm around his thin waist, bringing him closer. He was kissing any piece of warm skin he could find as any care about decency went out the window. Something about the hot lips on his neck, the calloused fingers sliding through his hair, made him remember everything he so desperately wanted to forget. 

A month prior, Zayn would have slapped himself for doing something this reckless. He was going home with a complete stranger when he couldn’t even walk in a straight line, and to make matters worse, this guy just looked like trouble. If Liam was there, he would be shaking his head and asking him why on earth he saw this as a good idea, why he wanted this. But Liam wasn’t there. Liam left a month ago. 

Zayn remembers that moment in perfect clarity. He remembers how everything turned bluish-grey for a second. He remembers how his heart almost stopped. But most of all, he remembers the words he thought he would never hear. 

“I think it’s time we see other people.”

He had come home from work at the music store like any other day. He walked through the door, kicked off his shoes, and hung up his jacket. Walking to the kitchen, he noticed the flat was much too quiet to be occupied. Naturally, Zayn thought Liam was out running some errands or seeing friends. He opened the fridge, scanning through the contents. He made a mental note to text Liam to pick up some milk while he was out. Zayn was absolutely starving, and leftovers from the previous night looked appetizing enough. He reached to grab the container off the shelf.

Zayn jumped at the sound of a throat clearing behind him. He spun around to see his boyfriend standing sheepishly a few feet away, hand gripping his other arm. 

“God, babe, you scared me half to death. I thought you were out,”

The brunette boy looked at the floor, then back up at Zayn. He looked lost on what to say. 

“Are you okay, love?”

Liam cleared his throat again, looking down at his shoes. He opened his mouth to speak, and that’s when Zayn’s world sort of stopped spinning. 

Liam wasn’t rude about it. He was sincere and apologetic, simply explaining that he no longer felt the same way. His friend Andy has already picked up his things, and he was going to stay with him for a while. He apologized again before walking out the door, leaving Zayn shell-shocked and speechless. He didn’t look back. 

Zayn was pulled out of his own head by a tugging on his sleeve. Danny helped him out of the taxi, paying the driver and closing the door clumsily. They walked up to his flat and stumbled through the door. Zayn sighed as Danny pressed him against the door, attacking his neck with lips and teeth. He could close his eyes and pretend it was Liam, but it only hurt more when he opened them to find a sweating stranger. Their hands were not the same, not good enough. Their lips were too thin. Their hair was too long.

The boys made their way to Danny’s messy bedroom with Zayn’s skinny legs hooked around the other boy’s waist, shedding clothes along the way. Zayn just wanted to forget, to stop thinking. It was like this almost every night. He’d go to some club, get drunk off his ass, and let some intoxicated stranger get rid of his thoughts along with his clothes. 

Danny kicked the door closed before dropping Zayn onto the bed. His mind shut off as soon as his back hit the mattress.


	2. You Said Forever and Always

Zayn woke to a feeling of empty coldness. He lifted his head, only to find a throbbing pain bouncing around his skull. He clenched his eyes shut, his expression twisting into one of discomfort. The usual. Zayn was surprised that hangovers even affected him anymore, really. He cracked his eyes open, squinting in the late-morning light, and saw an unfamiliar – and empty – bedroom. He was alone. Not usual. 

The sound of a toilet flushing startled him in the quietness of the lonely room. Danny came out of previously closed door to Zayn’s right, scantily clad in only his boxers. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the other boy looking at him from the unmade bed. 

“Oh! You’re awake,” Danny stated. 

“Yeah… what time is it?” Zayn questioned groggily, punctuating his sentence with a drawn out yawn. 

“Uh…” Danny looked at something over Zayn’s shoulder, “About eleven,”

Zayn nodded, running a hand over his dark stubble. He didn’t have work until three, so he was good. His boss was pretty lenient with him, anyway.

“So, um….” Danny looked like he was searching for something.

“Zayn,” Zayn said slowly.

“Zayn,” Danny repeated, “A new club just opened downtown, and a couple of my friends are going tonight. They told me to bring someone, and, uh, I was wondering, do you wanna go?”

Zayn paused. This could lead to things he didn’t want. Things like late-night phone calls, and soft kisses, and introduction to families, and all of it being snatched away as soon as he got comfortable. Why him, anyway? Why not someone he already knew? Who was he kidding, no one would keep him around that long anyway. On the other hand, it could also lead to a stable fuck-buddy, and somewhere to sleep besides his own flat. Somewhere that didn’t remind him of Liam.

“Sure,” Zayn smiled, “Should I plan on staying the night again?” He said with a wink. Danny laughed. 

“Yeah, be here by ten,” His eyes scanned Zayn’s naked form, “You wanna stay a while? Eat some breakfast?”

Eating breakfast was obviously not what Danny was planning. As nice as the idea seemed, Zayn’s roommate Niall would die of worry if he stayed out any longer. Niall was used to the boy spending the night somewhere else, but Zayn would always at least send him a drunken text along the lines of goonihjt. The five boys – Zayn, Niall, Liam, Louis, and Harry – had been close knit since their senior year of high school. Now, six years later, things were a little different, but mostly good. Harry and Louis had been in a steady relationship for three years, and were still going strong. It was a beautiful thing, really, but it only made Zayn envious to be around them. He used to have what they have. Now he could only stare and smile vacantly, wishing them the best. 

Everything was so much more complicated than it was a month ago. Every invitation to hang out was all “Will Liam be there?” “Yes, Zayn, why would Liam not be there?” “Never mind, I’m busy.” Every inside joke was a reminder of what he had lost. Every memory was a ghost haunting his troubled mind. 

He missed feeling alive. 

“Nah, I gotta head home. My roommate’s gonna flip if I don’t let him know I didn’t die,” Zayn laughed awkwardly, already out of bed and shuffling into yesterday’s jeans. At least he wasn’t lying. 

“Ah. Alright then, guess I’ll see you tonight?” Danny asked, stretching casually. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn patted his pockets, making sure he had everything. Phone, wallet, keys, check. He walked out the bedroom door and through the kitchen to the front door. Turning, he said one last goodbye to the dark-headed boy before leaving the unfamiliar flat. 

Zayn shrugged on his leather jacket as the winter air enveloped his slender body. Looking around, he realized that Danny’s flat was only a few blocks down from his own. Convenient. He headed home to gather a few things and kill time before he had to leave for the music store. 

Walking briskly to escape the biting cold, Zayn made his way to his flat. As he approached his door, he silently prayed for Niall to not be in. He was definitely not looking forward to the imminent ‘worried sick’ speech he knew would be delivered.

Of course the universe hadn’t been working in his favor lately. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Niall greeted him, springing up from the couch to interrogate the hung-over boy. 

“Out. Sorry I didn’t text you,” Zayn replied vaguely. He truly felt bad about worrying his scruffy, blond head, but he didn’t feel like sharing the personal details of the previous night. Not that he remembered much, anyway. 

“I thought something had happened! You could’ve been raped! Killed! You know how some of those guys are in those trashy clubs you go to!” The blue-eyed boy exclaimed, exasperated. He had always been the worrier of the group. 

“Listen, Niall, I know. But I can take care of myself, yeah?” Zayn walked past him to his bedroom to get a few belongings.   
Niall turned to face him, but didn’t follow. 

“I know you can, Zayn, but I just care about you a lot,” he paused, waiting for Zayn to look at him, “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,”

Zayn took a moment to stare at Niall. Everyone adored the boy, even if they barely knew him. He just had that carefree charm and endearing smile; you just had to love him. 

“Come here,” Zayn said softly, opening his arms. Niall stepped into the embrace, resting his head on the taller boy’s shoulder. 

“You know you mean a lot to me, Niall,” Zayn held him out in front him, looking him in the eye. “It won’t happen again, okay?”

Niall looked into his eyes for a long moment before nodding and going back to his spot on the couch to watch TV. Zayn sighed, turning on his heel and walking to his bedroom. Once inside, he shut the door almost soundlessly. He spotted his backpack near the dresser and picked it up, emptying it of its contents then dropping it onto the unmade bed. He pulled out a new outfit and changed into it, not wanting to wear yesterday’s clothes any longer. The room was quiet.

He shuffled through his drawers, searching for a shirt for the next day. His hand brushed past fabric, eventually reaching the back of the drawer. He couldn’t make up his mind on what he wanted.

His fingers clasped around heather-grey cloth. It was soft, like an old t-shirt washed countless times. He held it up in front of him, and his heart almost stopped.

It was Liam’s shirt. 

Zayn remembered when this shirt had come under his possession. It had been early in their relationship, within the first of many months. Zayn remembered the way the morning light casted shadows on Liam’s face through the blinds. He was watching the boy through heavy-lidded eyes, cataloging every minute detail. Zayn’s eyes scanned over his slight stubble littering his jaw line, his eyelashes fanning out over his skin, his lips curving slightly upwards. It was breathtaking. 

Liam slowly opened his eyes, waking up to Zayn smiling at him fondly. He grinned and yawned. 

“Morning, beautiful,” Liam whispered, his voice rough with sleep. Zayn giggled and ran a hand through his boyfriend’s short hair. 

“Morning,” he whispered back. He loved slow, quiet mornings like these. Mornings with Liam were his favorite. 

The perfect moment was shattered when Zayn looked at the clock on the bedside table. Ten o’clock stared at him blankly from the device’s dark face.

“Ah, shit. Boss wants me in at ten-thirty,” he said quickly, ducking down to kiss Liam before standing and hopping clumsily into his jeans. He picked up his shirt and noticed the sticky fluid splattered across the fabric. He did not want to go into work with that on his chest. Liam saw his dilemma. 

“Here babe, take mine,” he said, leaning over and picking his still-presentable shirt off the floor before handing it to Zayn. Zayn took it gratefully, pulling it over his head and maneuvering his arms through the sleeves. It hung a little loose on his thin frame, but the color looked good against his olive skin. 

“Thanks, sweetheart. You’re a lifesaver,” He grinned and leaned down for another quick kiss before heading to Liam’s bathroom to finish putting himself together.

He had never given the shirt back.

He had never wanted to.

Niall came running to the sound of glass shattering. The door swung open to hit the wall with a loud bang. Zayn’s mirror was hanging sadly in jagged ruins, an inanimate representation of the boy before it. Zayn clutched his fist and cursed, blood dripping weakly from his knuckles. 

“Jesus fuck, mate, you alright?” Niall looked at Zayn as if he was headless. Zayn nodded and pushed past him to the bathroom to tend to his wounds. Glass wasn’t the best idea for a punching bag. 

After wrapping up his injured hand, Zayn finished packing his bag. He kicked the discarded shirt away to live with the dust under his bed and swung the backpack over his shoulder. He’d deal with the mirror later. 

“I’m gonna be out tonight,” he stated, watching for Niall’s reaction. 

“Where are you going now?” Niall questioned carefully. He didn’t want to upset the boy further. 

“The coffee shop. I’m gonna kill some time before work,” Zayn explained. “I’ll see ya later,” 

He opened the door and got a single foot out before Niall stopped him.

“Hey!” Niall paused before staring hard at Zayn for a moment. “Be careful.”

Zayn mumbled a yeah, yeah and left the flat.

The coffee shop had always been one of Zayn’s favorite places in the city. It smelled of warmth and happiness, always bringing a smile to his face when he stepped inside. Harry and Louis happened to be two of the employees, so the small shop had eventually become a sort of home for the five boys. When they had been young, in high school, they would all meet up there after school. The owner Karen was a lovely, motherly-type women, and the boys were always welcome. 

Zayn opened the door with a ding, letting the warm air of the room ward off the chill from outside. He approached the dark counter just as the curly haired boy behind it handed a petite woman a streaming cup of coffee. Harry put the money in the slots of the cash register then looked up, expecting another thirsty customer.

He broke out in a wide grin much too large for his face, his green eyes lighting up. He was glad the shop wasn’t busy as he leaned over and enveloped Zayn is a warm hug. 

“Hey, mate, what’s up?” he greeted, taking in Zayn’s tired appearance, “What happened to your hand?”

Zayn didn’t get a chance to answer before Louis walked up from behind his boyfriend, handing the dark haired boy his regular order and pecking Harry on the cheek. 

“I’ve missed you, Zayn, you need to come around more,” Louis said as Zayn slid the money across the counter. 

“You know I love seeing you guys,” he replied, taking a sip of the hot liquid, “I’ve just been busy.”

Harry gave him a look, knowing exactly how Zayn has been ‘busy’. The three boys had been quite worried about the Zayn since Liam left. They held nothing against Liam for it, knowing he was sweet about it and not obligated to stay somewhere he didn’t want to be. Niall, Louis, and Harry just didn’t bring up the other boys around each other, not wanting to cause further damage to their group. 

They missed who Zayn used to be.

Zayn looked at the cup warming his hands, mentally promising himself to catch up with the boys soon. He adored them, really, and it hurt more to stay away than it did to see them. 

“Listen, I’ve got to head off to work, but I’ll see you guys soon, yeah? I’ve missed you too,” he said, eyes flickering from Louis’ to Harry’s, then back.  
“Alright, mate, be safe,” Harry added, words tinged with a sad note. He missed his friend, though he was standing two feet away. “Be back soon.”

“Will do,” Zayn smiled, looking between the two lovebirds. His heart felt heavy in his chest as he left the coffee shop. He knew his friends were hurting, but he was too. His life had turned into an empty void after Liam had left. He was no longer living. He simply existed.

He walked down the streets of this too familiar town like a robot, seeing, but not taking anything in. The cold sidewalk had a reassuring hardness to it, something that wouldn’t suddenly change on him. 

When Zayn finally looked up, he realized he was in the old park, filled with huge oak trees and winding pathways. Though the air was bitingly cold, there were still people inhabiting the grounds. Families with small children running about, young couples in love; their happiness made Zayn envious. 

He sat down on a bench to finish off his sweet coffee. His chest felt tight as he remembered the days he and Liam would come here. One moment in particular stuck in his memory so vividly, he could never forget it.

It had been in early autumn of the previous year, the air crisp and the leaves just starting to turn beautiful, warm hues. The sky was strikingly blue. Liam and Zayn were strolling through the town, their hands clasped tightly together when Liam decided that he and his beloved needed to visit the nearby park. Zayn giggled and came along, right at his side as always. Liam pulled him over to the big swing set, the one he had loved as a child. It held fond memories with him. 

“Push me on the swings, Liam!” Zayn had laughed out. He was so insanely love struck, barely out of being a teenager. He was still so young.

Of course, Liam complied, letting Zayn settle in the swing seat before stepping behind him. He firmly placed his palms between Zayn’s shoulder blades, over the material of the loose grey t-shirt, and pushed. Zayn giggled and looked back at him, so happy to be with this boy. His heart swelled with affection for Liam, his Liam. 

Zayn swung for a bit, Liam always there to push him forward again, before he slowed himself, feet dragging against the dark mulch below. He reached behind him to grab Liam’s arms before pulling them around his chest. He wondered if Liam could feel his jack-rabbit heart beat. 

Liam bent to hug Zayn, burying his face in the older boy’s hair. He smelled of shampoo and spicy cologne. He couldn’t contain his love for this boy. 

“I love you,” he whispered against him, his arms wrapped around Zayn’s torso like he’d hold him there forever.   
Zayn blinked. Liam actually said it. He said he loved him. It was the first time he had spoken those three words to him. 

“I love you, too, Liam,” Zayn’s words rushed out of him, eager to feel the freedom the open air. He closed his eyes and just felt for a moment. Liam breathed against his hair, his arms warm. He felt like he was floating. 

Things were different now, of course. Zayn was no longer floating. He was falling and flailing and he couldn’t get back on his feet. He angrily wiped the tears off his cheeks and stood, chucking the empty cup into a nearby trash bin. He didn’t care that children were staring at him. He didn’t care that his palm hurt from how hard his nails were digging into it. All he cared about was getting done with work and getting alcohol into his system.


End file.
